


These lonely nights are over

by EmyLilas



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Female Reader Character, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Insomnia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25532686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmyLilas/pseuds/EmyLilas
Summary: It took Jack and you more than two years to understand you can't properly sleep when you're not together. From the first time she showed up at your door, completely unexepected, to the moment you both decide it has been going for too long, the story of how the two of you travel through the difficulties of loving someone.“Mr Sandman, bring us a dream, make her the cutest that I’ve ever seen.Give her two lips like roses and clover, and tell her that her lonely nights are over.Sandman, I’m so alone, don’t have nobody to call my own.”-Mr Sandman, Pat Ballard.
Relationships: Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 37





	1. The first time she can’t stop tossing and turning

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is set after 15X09: "Ready or not" when Delilah goes into labour while there's an hostage situation in the ER.  
> It was written before we've heard about the rumours of Maria leaving the show, since I'm in some kind of denial, I felt the need to write more about Jack.
> 
> I hope you'll like it!

The first time Jack shows up at your apartment because she can’t fall asleep you are deeply sleeping tuck under the covers of your bed only to be woken up by loud knocks against your door. You groan as you throw your legs out of your comfy and warm bed. It has been a very intense day and all you want to do is sleeping. You don’t bother checking by the peehole who the intruder is — you probably should have, after all it might as well have been a serial killer or some guy looking for revenge — and you open your door with a big sigh. Only to look more confused than ever at the sight of Jacqueline Sloane on your doorstep. 

“ _Huh…?_ ” is the only sound you’re able to make at 3am when you are exhausted. Yet you manage a surprised “ _Agent Sloane?_ ” 

She runs a hand in her hair looking suddenly uncertain about her presence here. You shake your head and step back, gesturing for her to step in. Her eyes don’t leave yours and you feel forced to look away. You try not to burn under her inquisitive stares. If she doesn’t walk in in the next minute you’re probably going to bark at her for showing up all unannounced at 3am when the two of you have mostly talked about work for the last months she’s been here. 

She seems nice. You’ve shared some pleasantries, made some small talks in elevators. At least, she has. You’ve been mostly shy around her. The last cases she has been helping you with, she has proved herself to be trustworthy and a really strong ally. You’ve admired how dedicated she was in Hicks case. You know she’s still working on that with Gibbs. The most friendly interaction you two have had was last week, when Laura Regan has left Jack’s office after the desk lamp had short-circuited. Jack has walked the witness back to the bullpen and mumbling something about needing an electrician. At the end of the day, being done with the task you were asked to do, you’ve made your way to her office, curious about her previous statement. 

You remember how you haven’t been able to hold back a soft giggle at the sight of her office floor being covered with dismantled pieces of the lamp. Sloane has been sitting in front of them, staring at those pieces with an expression you couldn’t quite describe. You still don’t know why you did it but you joined her on the floor, grabbing an orange lollipop on your way. She told you about the lamp short-circuiting while Laura was in some sort of trance. You both meticulously examined the whole lamp trying to find out what happened but none of you being an electrician — NCIS’s electrician was on leave until the end of the week — you finally gave up, only to end up sitting on the couch of her office, drinking scotch together. Not that you really like that drink but she has offered with such a big smile you couldn’t reject her attempt at bonding with you. 

“ _Agent Sloane?_ ” You repeat a second time, wondering why she would showed up at your door when you seem to be the only people of Gibbs’ team she hasn’t been able to bond with. Especially the night of Thanksgiving, doesn’t she have better people to be with?

“ _There’s this question that’s been playing in my mind for a long time now_ ” she starts telling you with her sharp tone, still standing in the common hallway “ _why do you keep calling me Agent Sloane? Why is it never Jack? Or Jacqueline? Why is it always Agent Sloane?_ ” 

You stare at her with wide opened eyes, blinking a couple of times, trying to understand what is happening. “ _Wait, you’re showing up at my door, at 3 in the morning because you’re pissed off I don’t call you Jack?_ ” 

Sloane huffs and finally steps in. You close the door behind her and lean on against it, your eyes falling back on the psychologist, only to realise she’s now pacing between your living room and your kitchen. Such a state of agitation can’t just be because of the way you call her, there’s clearly something else. You’re about to ask for the real reason of her being here when she starts speaking again, facing you: “ _I understood, at the beginning. I’ve read your file, you have trust issues…”_

You cut her off quickly: _“I don’t ha…”_

_“You have trust issues”_ she repeats with a tone leaving no room for protests “ _and I was new and you needed time to see if you could come to trust me. And I understand that’s uncomfortable for you to know I’ve read your file when you don’t know anything about me. You feel vulnerable because I know some of your pressure points and, again, you have nothing on me. You wonder if I’m gonna use that against you at some point, am I wrong? I’m not. You don’t have to answer. I’ve read your file, remember?”_

_“Yes, you’re making it hard to forget”_ you snap back feeling your defensive sides coming back. Your fists are tightly clenched and you realise her eyes are falling on them.

She takes a step closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. You rear back right away. You didn’t mean to, it’s instinctive. It’s just what you do. It’s protection: “ **_That’s_ ** _what I’m talking about.”_

You shake your head and run a hand through you hear, already annoyed by this conversation. _“Wait, are you telling me you’re all upset because I’m not as friendly and into physical contact as you are? If you know I have trust issues you know I need time”_ you didn’t mean to have such a sharp tone but it’s too early in the morning — or way too late in the night — to be confronted to this kind of non-sense. 

_“And I gave you time. I even tried harder to give you actual proofs that I could be someone you could trust...”_ she clearly seems upset and you still have no idea about the real reason of her visit. “ _What did I do wrong? All your teammates seem to have accepted me, why can’t you?”_

You notice the way her voice flinches at the end of her question. You sigh as you make your way to your couch only to let your body sink on it. You cover your face with your hands. Why did she have to come tonight? “ _It’s not about acceptance, Age… Jacqueline. I… I just don’t trust people”_ you feel the couch sagging a bit under her body weight as she sits close to you, you try not to notice how close she is. “ _I’d like to. But I can’t...”_ she places a soft hand on your knee and you have to keep yourself under control not to push her away, it’s not like _she_ is making you uncomfortable, you’re just not used to being touched by people you don’t know. “ _I’m better off on my own”._

_“But you let some people in. I’ve seen you with McGee and Abby. The three of you are like family, aren’t you?”_ Jack is now asking with a soft smile, it doesn’t matter that you’re not looking at her right now, you hear it in her warm voice. “ _Hey… Y/N...”_ she takes your hands in hers, taking them away from your face “ _I’m not asking you to tell me everything about your life, we’ve only known each other for a couple of months”_ she takes a deep sigh, looking you right in the eyes, maybe this way you’ll see how sincere she really is “ _I’m just asking you to give me a chance”._

Her face shows how sincere she is. Her tone shows how sincere she is. _“Why does it matter so much?”_ you ask willing to understand because none of it makes sense. Yet, you know she’s not lying, she really wants you to give her a chance to get to know each other better. But it doesn’t make any sense. Why would it be so important to her? “ _Everyone else really likes you! Nick says you’re super cool, Tim is amazed by how quickly you can switch from sassy quips to soft words, Ellie says you’re so much fun, Clay thinks you’re a great moral support, Ducky seems to never run short of eulogistic terms when he talks about you, Abby can’t stop rambling about how nice it is to finally have someone who seems to be into hugs too, Jimmy is that close to give you a medal for standing up to Gibbs and even Gibbs, which really says a lot, seems to be completely charmed! Gibbs for God’s sake!”_

_“Are you done?”_ Jack asks, amusement clear in her tone “ _Too much flattery for one night”._

You tilt your head, slightly annoyed: _“I wasn’t flattering you”._

_“You may have sounded a bit jealous, though”_ she teases you, softly patting your nose. You bite your lips the instant her finger touches your skin. 

You don’t know how to act around this woman. “ _I am not!”_ You drawl huffing. “ _Everyone else likes you. Why does it matter so much that I don’t call you Jack?”_

She sighs groaning: “ _It’s not about how you decide to call me! The mere idea of making my life easier is killing you, isn’t it?”_ you know she’s annoyed but her lips are curving into a mocking smile.

_“Don’t be so surprised, you’ve read my file, you know I suck when it comes to human relationships”_ and it’s not even a lie. Your past relationships prove it well enough. Not only the romantic ones. You’ve lost good friends. You’ve lost people you cared about. Even your family relationships are a mess.

_“Why is it so different with Tim and Abby? And what about Ducky? I’ve asked him about you and he acted like a proud and overprotective grandpa”_ you smile at her words, your heart being warmed up by the fact she noticed how the two of you were closely related to the other. “ _Why?”_

You sigh again, she’s asking too many questions. She’s asking too many personal things. _“Why does it matter so much to you?”_

_“Don’t answer my questions with questions, only I can do that”_ Jack winks but since you’re not answering her question five minutes later, she gives in with a deep sigh “ _I have no idea, okay? You’re pushing me away and I guess I want to know why because I’m intrigued. Let’s stick with that, would you? You’re intriguing”_ from the corner of your eye, you see a frank smirk curving her lips. “ _And cute, when you’re blushing. Your turn now!”_

You sink further into your couch hoping you might disappear in it: “ _I’ve known Tim and Abby for years. Even before I was an agent. They’ve earned my trust and never done anything to lose it. And Ducky is like family. He always seems to know what to do around me or what to tell me or what’s going on inside my head. Even when I am not so sure myself”_ you confess maybe too much, but it doesn’t matter. Jack has answered your question before, it is only fair you do the same.

_“So what about Ellie and Nick?”_

You wait a couple of seconds before answering, very carefully trying to choose your words, trying to find the right thing to say without lying. _“Ellie’s a good friend. She’s trustworthy. I guess I also trust Nick, in a way. We couldn’t be working together otherwise. I mean, I trust him. Professionally for sure. And I trust him personally as much as I can”._

_“Why don’t you trust me?”_ she asks abruptly, hoping if she asks fast enough you might answer spontaneously. It works, sometimes. 

You don’t see the need to fight about that. So it works here too. You give her the answer she’s looking for: _“We don’t know each other”._

You might have been prepared for a lot of answers to that but when Jack answers right away: _“What do you want to know then?”,_ giving you a big warm smile, you’re completely taken aback. Jacqueline Sloane is definitely full of surprised tonight. You don’t know a lot of people who would have come up with that answer without second thoughts. 

You get lost for a moment, staring at her smile. It’s the same warm smile she always offers you when you walk into a room and she’s already here. The same warm smile you see on her face every time the elevator doors open on you. You have no idea what you’ve done to deserve such a bright smile but you’d be lying if you said it doesn’t instantanely make you feel better. 

And now you’re ducking your head in shame because it’s true, she has been trying to bond with you. She has been trying to talk to you, to get to know you better. She has even asked you to join her for a coffee once or twice. She has been trying and you’ve been pushing her away because you are scared. You are scared you’re going to trust her and she’ll end up betraying you. Or she’ll end up dead. Because it’s what seems to happen most of the time. You only have a few people you really trust. Of course, you can’t blame people for dying. Yet, every loved one’s death is a new stab in your heart. You know you’re not weak but you also know you care too much. It takes you time to trust someone, it takes you time to let them in but when it’s done, you love them unconditionally. And when they die, it’s like a part of you is dying with them. 

That’s one of the reason why you’re not letting anyone else that close again. Jack being a psychologist, she would probably find something in your childhood to explain your lack of trust, and she would probably be right. But finding its cause doesn’t solve the problem, not when the cause can’t be eradicated. 

You shake your head. You know there’s something else. You don’t want to let her in because from what you’ve already seen of her, she is easy to love. You’re scared if you get to know her more she’ll just be as loveable as she seems. You’re scared to fall for Jacqueline Sloane. And she’s currently sitting on your couch, at 3:30 in the morning after the hell of a day you both had. Of course, you couldn’t be happier about finally meeting your niece and nephew — and that smile on Tim’s and Delilah's faces, you feel your lips curving up at the memory — but you could have enjoyed this day without the hostage taking and the hostage taker being such a dick. Aren’t they all? Yes, probably, they wouldn’t be taking people hostage in the ER otherwise. 

“ _Why did you come here? Real reason”._

That’s the first time you see Jacqueline Sloane being shy about something. She softly laughs, running a hand on her hair again: “ _You got me all figured out huh…”_

You gently smile at her, trying to give her comfort with the simple gesture. _“Is it because of Yorka?”_ by the way her smile drops you know you were right. “ _He’s gonna pay for what he did to your friend but it won’t bring him back. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”_

_“Part of it, at least…”_ She watches you as you get up off the couch and disappear into the kitchen. “ _Y/N?”_ but you quickly sit back closer to her, two empty glasses and a bottle of wine in your hands. “ _Not a scotch lover? You should have said something, I wouldn’t have been offended ya know”._

_“Just be happy I tried something for you!”_ You answer with an amused smile tuck on your lips. “ _Here, it’s going to be a long night”._

She takes her first sip and goes back talking when she notices your inquisitive glances: “ _I lost my cool”._

You give her some time to process this confession she has just made. You feel it’s more a confession to herself than to you. Flashes of the day come back to you: _“You mean when you were all busy punching one of the worst guy on this planet? Definitely, but first, just remember he deserved it, second, that was quite impressive!”_

Jack laughs, relieving more skin of her neck ー and you mentally blame yourself for noticing ー as she tilts her head back: “ _Impressive? I like that you find me impressive”._

You roll your eyes: “ _Has it ever crossed your brilliant mind that the reason why I’m distant with you might just be because you impress me too much? Hypothetically speaking, of course”_ you wink, weirdly feeling more comfortable around her. Then you look at your now empty glass: that’s the reason why. You pour yourself another glass and Jack hands you hers for a refill. “ _I’m sorry it bothers you that much”._

She lazily shrugs, “ _Gibbs now thinks I’m incapable of controlling my emotions and impulses”._

You’re surprised she’s bringing Gibbs in. You’re even more surprised she could possibly care about what others might think about her. _“And what do you think about it? Would he be right to assume that?_ ”

Jack takes a moment to think about it. You appreciate how sincere she has decided to be with you. “ _In a certain extend, I think he is. But it doesn’t make me any less capable at doing my work and doing it well”._

Her tone isn’t as confident as she might have wanted, it’s almost like if she’s waiting for your confirmation. You place a hand on her knee and you can’t say who is the most surprised by your act here. Is it Jack because she’s thought you would never even try to reach for her hand? Is it you because you’re actually doing it as it’s a natural thing to do when you barely know this woman? Those questions don’t matter now. 

“ _Then you shouldn’t be bothered by what Gibbs thinks. You know, if we were all concerned about what he thinks of us, I’m not quite sure he would still have agents to work with. I know the drill, you’d like him to acknowledge you as the expert you are and now you worry he’ll be condescending because of what happened”._

Jack nods sinking further in your couch: _“It infuriates me”_ the annoyance is clear in her tone, you’re glad she’s just not mad at you anymore _“I’m good at my job and proving it by doing my job should be enough. Why isn’t it enough? Why do I have to work harder for him to realise I’m capable? Is it because I’m a woman? Do we, as women, have to work even harder for the great Jethro Gibbs to acknowledge our worth?”_

You bite your lips, thinking about what she’s just said before taking another sip: “ _I think it’s just because it’s Gibbs. Everyone has to work a lot to earn his respect. I’d say it’s normal, that you have to prove yourself to earn someone’s respect, don’t you think?”_

_“I feel like he’s always questioning my decisions. Like he always thinks he knows better”_ Jack sounds more and more annoyed as she keeps talking about how Gibbs acts around her “ _Is he like that with everyone?”_

_“He is”_ you answer right away. “ _I’m not quite sure it has something to do with your gender though. I really think it’s a Gibbs thing, like he thinks he’s above us all. He sometimes is”_ because it’s true, Gibbs has proved himself to be a wise man who earned to be respected and listened to. Yet, you sometimes think he’s crossing the lines, playing some sort of human divinity. _“But, yes, this man definitely has an ego too big to fit in an interrogation room. I guess what you’re feeling now is just the result of your ego colliding with his”._

It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if Jack has taken your words badly. Maybe she’s thinking you are accusing her of having a big ego but when you hear her laughter ringing into your ear, you relax and smile at her. She takes another sip before smiling back at you: “ _You are absolutely right, my dear Y/N!”_ she’s silent again, her eyes dancing on your face, this warm bright smile still tuck on her lips “ _I know I have some ego myself. I just hope it isn’t excessive!”_ she places her hand on top of yours. “ _Thank you, Y/N. It helped to just get it all out of my head, I’ve been stuck on that for the whole evening, I couldn’t sleep.”_

You smile back at her, not daring to pull back your hand as you enjoy the feeling of her warm palm against the back of yours. You realise the alcohol isn’t the only reason why you are feeling more and more comfortable around Jack. You know it’ll take time but you’re letting her in. Then, this idea pops into your head. Maybe she knew where it would lead. She knows you have trust issues, she knows you don’t open up to people. From what you’ve noticed about her, she doesn’t open up to people either, just enough to let them think she does, not enough to let them know anything personal about her. That’s something you admire: you wish you could do just the same. But small talk isn’t really your speciality. It always ends up in a cold and awkward silence in which you feel the need to say something but there’s a big void in your mind and nothing is spoken. 

Fact is, Jacqueline Sloane doesn’t talk about her feelings and you’ve never heard her talking about something that was struggling her. You know she probably confides in the director but it’s only because they are very close friends. You’re like a stranger to her and yet, she has opened up to you when you asked. Maybe because she knew it was the only way to make you comfortable. 

“ _I didn’t trick you”._

You startle, brutally turning your head to look at her: “ _Wow do you have some kind of superpower allowing you to read my mind? Because if it is, I’ll have to be extremely cautious around you”._

_“Scared I’d find some inappropriate thoughts about me?”_ Jack answers with a raspy voice causing you to blush again. You know it’s just her teasing you — you’ve noticed that too, teasing is her thing — but there is nothing you can do to prevent heat from invading your body at this tone she’s using. It’s no news that attractive is a poor adjective to describe Jacqueline Sloane. Concerned by your lack of answer, she squeezes your hand. “ _Cat got your tongue? No, I don’t read people’s minds, would be so much easier… You were frowning and then I realise how it might seem but no, I didn’t tell you that because I absolutely wanted you to talk to me. I mean to talk to me about you. I wanted you to talk to me otherwise I would not have come at your place at 3 in the morning and I’m sorry about that by the way, I’m just realising now it was rude of me to…”_

_“It’s fine”_ you start telling her but she keeps rambling “ _Jack, it’s fine. Really. And stop smiling just because I’ve called you Jack, that’s ridiculously adorable”._

“ _And here I was, thinking I had a pretty smile”_ you blush again and she leans i, getting closer to your ear “ _and that you’d like to see it more”._ She giggles as you gulp. Is she tipsy yet? Because it would explain a lot. “ _My turn now!”_ Jack’s perky tone surprises you.

You’re trying to collect your breath as she gives you more space but, yet, stay closer than she previously was _: “Nope. That’s just half an answer!”_

_“We’ve been talking about me for way too long, I have questions too!”_

_“Then tell me why you are here. Why you decided to come and see me. The director’s your friend, Ducky’s a great confident, you get along with everyone, you could have gone to Gibbs’ and do some woodwork in his basement…”_ she stares at you with a raised eyebrow, she probably doesn’t know about that yet, she’ll come to it one day, you know that. Everyone does, at some point. _“Why me?”_

Jack tilts her head biting her bottom lip as she looks at you refilling both your glasses again: “ _That’s embarrassing”._

_“It's only fair”_ you playful stick out your tongue at her and lift your glass to your lips. “ _Don't expect me to beg”._

Playful sparkles are back in her brown eyes and you definitely know you are getting used to them already: “ _That's a shame. I made it a mental rule to only fulfill your wishes when you're begging me for it_ ".

The late hour and the second bottle of wine you are opening are definitely contributing to set this atmosphere between the two of you. You don't mind. Quite the opposite. You'd be lying if you said you have never thought of Sloane in such a way. You love that she's such a flirt. It makes it easier. 

You know it will probably not last. You know when you see her in the office on Monday, there won't be anything left of your flirt of the night. Maybe she won't let you go back to what you both were before tonight. So maybe you'll grow closer, become friends even. But you know the flirt ends tonight. And you also know you'll have to work hard not to make things awkward between you both. You're quite confident about it, knowing Jack will help feeling comfortable around her. You roll your eyes at yourself, what's happening to you? You don't know that woman. At least you hardly know her. And yet, you trust her to settle a comfortable atmosphere between you.

_Trust_. It isn't that easy. You know you can trust her professionally. She has proved it the very first day you've worked with her. So you're not lying when you say you professionally trust her. But personally, it's tough for you. It's not that you don't trust her. You'd like to fully trust her because it's true she inspires trust. When you’re around her it seems like the obvious thing to do, to trust her. It seems like the right thing. When Jack gives you that smile, it's like nothing might hurt you anymore.

But you know it's not true. She doesn't have such a power. She isn't here to protect you. She isn't here to take care of you. And you're terrified by the thought she might be the one hurting you. You don't want to open up to the wrong person. It has happened once. You've promised yourself it will never happen again even if it meant you'd have to be on your own. It has made you stronger. But it also has made you feel lonely. 

You wonder if Jack sometimes feel lonely. You don't know much about her. As cheerful as she is she certainly has a lot of friends surrounding her. Who wouldn't want to be friend with her? But you have no idea. Maybe, behind her happy face and warm friendly smiles, she's in pain. Maybe she can't talk about it. Maybe she has no one to take care of her. Maybe she's on her own too. And maybe it has made her stronger but she also feels lonely. You realise you really don't know anything about her. Does she have a boyfriend? A husband? A girlfriend? A husband? Why does she left San Diego? Does she have friends in DC? 

How would you know? Tonight's the first time you two share an intimate moment. It's the first time you let down your guard around her. It's like she walked into your personal space with a peace offering. And because she tried to get closer to you, because she didn't just give up on getting to know you better, you felt welcomed, maybe even reassured. Someone who's willing to try this hard to see what's behind your walls is either a psychopath probably planning your murder or trying to content a weird excessive curiosity either a very caring person.

You have no idea if you'll be able to personally trust her one day. Tonight, you feel like you're already offering her a way in. Tonight, it's like you are considering the idea, almost testing her in a way.

You startle when you feel her hand resting on your shoulder. Jack brings you back to her, squeezing your shoulder softly. Her face is covered with concern and you wonder how long it has been since you zoned out:" _I'm sorry I…”_

_“You're alright?”_ you're touched by the concern you hear in her tone. “ _Let's tuck you into bed, you're probably very tired. I'm sorry it's all my fault”._

You shake your head, not quite wanting this moment to end yet. _“Jack, I'm fine. I was just lost in my thoughts”._

Her eyes suddenly fall back on your face and she blinks a couple of time, surprised by the fact you managed to speak a complete coherent sentence. You see her cheeks covering themselves with red at the realisation she may have overreacted. “ _Sorry I thought you were feeling bad and…”_

_“I should have counted how many times you apologized tonight”_ you place your hand back on her knee, enjoying the feel of her skin against your palm. “ _Don't you dare thinking I haven't noticed you still haven't answered my question, Jacqueline!"_

You grin at her and she laughs at your mischievous expression, falling back against you on the couch. You feel your body heating up at the contact of her leg against yours. You feel glad that you've been wearing a pair of satin shorts tonight and that she's been wearing a skirt. It would have been a shame not to have skin contact tonight. You groan a bit, feeling overwhelmed by the proximity with Jack. You feel heat radiating from her body. You can smell her perfume. You can hear her breathing. 

She seems to notice those exact same things at the exact same moment than you. You have to look away from her face when you see Jack slowly biting her lips. You don't know if it's because you're tipsy or if it's just Jack or maybe the sad lack of any sexual life those past months or maybe a mix of all of that, but you haven't felt as horny as you do now for a very long time. You don't even know why. For sure, she's attractive. You grin at yourself when you hear Nick's voice in your head saying _Y/N, Jack's hot._ For sure she is… You don't know where Jack's mind has been wandering but it has to be in a similar place than yours because you both clear your throats at the same time shyly sharing a smile.

" _I couldn't sleep because I was upset at myself and then I was thinking about what you were all going to think of me”_ she lowers her voice before she keeps talking. _“And then I started thinking about you and how you didn't seem to like me…”_

You turn your head to face her, pretending you don't notice how close you two are: “ _I hope now you know I don't dislike you”._

_“Is it your way of telling me you like me?”_ Jack asks smirking again “ _because I definitely like you”._

_“Don't get ahead of yourself, lady!”_ you softly snap her thigh “ _And then?”_

Jack hufs but her lips are still curved into an amused grin: “ _You never give up, do you? And then I was upset because I didn't understand why you didn't like me. And when I decided it was enough tossing and turning for tonight and that I was going to see someone, I drove at your place”._

You decide not to ask on how she knows where your place is, she probably read it on your file. _“But why here? We're not exactly friends”._

_“I don't exactly have friends you know. I mean, except Leon”_ her voice is a soft whisper as she opens up to you for the first real time. “ _And I wanted to understand why you didn't like me. I needed to. I wasn't lying, you intrigue me. And I really enjoyed the moment we shared in my office last week. It was the friendliest time I've had since I've moved to DC”._

“ _I'm glad you enjoyed it too”_ you answer whispering too but she doesn't really pay attention as she's trying to explain to you why she decided to come to you.

She has a self-pity laugh and you frown, not knowing where it comes from: “ _Don't laugh at me but from the short time we talked together I just thought maybe… I thought we could be something good you know. Good friends. Or at least, good allies, at first. It's just a feeling I had. It's stupid but I really wanted to try. If I hadn’t come to clear this situation with you, I would have had the feeling to be missing something, you know…?_ ”

_“It's not stupid. We're having a good time, aren't we? So it was definitely not stupid. If it wasn't for you we wouldn't be talking together. I would still be distant with you and you would still be wondering why. It was a bold move to come here but it was eventually the right thing to do! I’m glad you were bold enough to come. I would have never dared to make such a move…”_

Jack smiles behind her half-empty glass: “ _Hold on, did you enjoy it too?”_

You frown trying to understand what she means: “ _Ah… is it your question for me?”_

_“What? No, no way, it wouldn’t be fair!”_ she answers with a light voice, her tone showing her amusement. “ _I opened up to you a lot tonight! It can’t be just me!”_

You shrug: “ _So, what do you want to know?_ ”

You both spend another couple of hours asking each other questions. You both learn things that aren’t too hard for any of you to talk about. You know there is a lot more behind her cheerful disposition. You sometimes catch a flash of sadness in her eyes. The wine makes it harder for the both of you to keep your emotions under control. Your poker faces are slowly falling. You didn’t think you wouldn’t mind but there’s something about Jack making you comfortable. You don’t mind if she can read the emotions written all over your face. And she seems not to mind too, that you are able to hear the hurt in her voice when she mentions Afghanistan. 

You don’t ask anything else about Afghanistan than what she is willing to share by herself. You definitely don’t want her to feel pressured. You know it must have been a hard time. You know for a fact coming back for a war is always hard. But you get the feeling there’s more to her story. Maybe she’ll tell you about it. Maybe she won’t. Everyone has secrets they can’t share. You quickly understand her not being able to fall asleep isn’t a one time thing. But once again, you don’t ask any more questions, unwilling to make her feel uncomfortable. 

You also learn she likes to surf and she really misses the beached of San Diego. Jack seems shocked you’ve never been to California before and you’ve never tried to surf. You know you’re both way past tipsy when she tells you with a happy clap of her hands “ _You have to learn! I could teach you! It’d be fun! Please say yes!_ ” looking at you with big puppy eyes. You know _you_ are way past tipsy when her offer immediately echoes in your mind with the opportunity to be very close to Jack. And for you to say yes to such an offer, from this woman you’re just starting to know, it definitely means you’re not just slightly tipsy. 

She learns you like to dance, a lot. Even though you don’t really call it dancing, as wildly moving your body isn’t really a dance. But she doesn’t care and she answers she really likes dancing too. “ _We should go dancing together some night!”_ Jack enthusiastically throws another offer. You gulp when she moves her mouth close to your ear to whisper “ _I’d like to see you dance”_ her fingers dancing on your skin, from your knee up to the middle of your thigh. 

Jacqueline’s smile is big when you’re surprised she tells you she’s single and has been for a long time now. You don’t know how it’s possible a woman like her hasn’t found anyone yet. Maybe it’s because there isn’t a single person on this planet who could be good enough for Jacqueline Sloane. You’re sure you’ve said all that in your head but when you hear Jack’s hearty laughter you start thinking you should probably stop drinking. 

Jack yawns and you mentally curse yourself for thinking it’s absolutely adorable, the way it causes her nose to frown. She looks at you with sleepy eyes and you both realise it’s now almost 6 in the morning. You can’t believe you’ve been talking to her for so long. “ _Such a good thing we have the weekend free…_ ” Jack mumbles yawning again. You nod, wishing your phone won’t ring before at least 10 for an emergency case. You really don’t want to hear Gibbs’ voice through your phone when you only have less than an hour of sleep. There should be laws against these kind of things… 

You look at Jack getting back on her feet, dangerously swaying. Once she’s stabilized on her feet, she proudly smiles at you, alcohol and tiredness visible in her eyes. It’s only when she takes her phone out of her bag that you understand what she is doing. 

“ _Stay._ ” 

It comes out of your mouth before your brain has the chance to think about it twice. Alcohol be blamed… Jack stops typing on her phone to look at you, trying to understand if you’re being serious about it or not. 

“ _Like some sort of… a … sleepover?”_ she asks, stuttering. 

“ _Isn’t it what friends do?_ ”

The smile following you words is the biggest she has ever offered you and you feel warmed up at the mere sight of it. She throws her phone on your table and stares at you for a few seconds, this bright smile tuck on her lips. This Thanksgiving is just becoming better and better, putting aside the Yorka thing. You are now an aunt of two beautiful babies, the man you consider like your brother has now his happy family to love him and you’re starting to let her in. You feel your heart melt at her happy tone: “ _I’m staying then!_ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the end of the first chapter, I'm hoping to post another one soon because I'm almost done writting it but I can't promise anything yet!  
> Feel free to let me know what you thought of this first chapter, it's always so nice to hear feedbacks!  
> Have a lovely day!


	2. A Christmas miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set at the end of 15x10: Double down, after Jack and Nick are back from Afghanistan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me longer than I thought to finish it, but it is also longer than I expected it to be, so...  
> I hope you'll like it!  
> The timeframe is a bit different from the actual episode because it was just unrealistic that they solved the case in one day. So this takes place the night of the 28th of December.
> 
> And yes, Christmas fic in August, just what we need to fight the heat!

You didn’t really have plans for Christmas. Your biological family lives far away from you and your relationship with them isn’t always the easiest. Tim and Delilah asked you to join them and the twins, because “ _you’re family, Y/N, and Christmas is a family thing_ ”. There was no way you could say no to Delilah. You tried once and it’s probably going to be a painful memory for the rest of your life. But you convinced her you’d only be here for the morning of Christmas, insisting on the fact it is the twins’ first Christmas and it has to be just the four of them for Christmas’ Eve. So you spend Christmas with the McFamily and Abby. 

Ellie has left Washington four days ago to be with her family for a few days. She was eager to see her brothers again. Jimmy finally had his theme Christmas with his family in law. You haven’t heard from Gibbs but you just assume he has done his Gibbs’ things. You don’t know about Nick.

You feel your heart tightened as you close the door of your apartment behind you. Still no words from Nick and Jack. You keep hearing Vance’s voice in your head, saying, five days ago, they _lost track of_ _Agent Torres’ and Agent Sloane’s convoy._ You swallow the lump in your throat, dropping your bag on the floor not bothering to turn the lights on. You know your place well enough to find your way to your couch without bashing your knees against anything painful. You sit in the dark, fully dressed, staring at the emptiness of your place. 

The warming sound of Jacqueline’s hearted laugh rings into your ears and you know tears are building in your eyes. You are scared you’ll never hear it again. You are scared it’s over. You are scared she’s gone. What if she’s already dead? What if she’s been captured? What if you never see her again? 

It’s been almost a month since she first came here in the middle of your night, talking to you with an open heart. It’s been almost a month since you offered her to stay for the night. A small smile curves your lips behind the silent tears rolling down your cheeks. It’s been almost a month and you’re still amazed by how quickly you both grew fond of the other. You won’t admit it, though. And it might never matter anymore. Because you might have seen Jacqueline Sloane for the last time, ten days ago.

You were at her place, lying on the carpet of her living room as she was sitting crossed-legs on her couch, a glass of scotch. You were surprised by how quickly you had learned to read her emotions through her face, in her eyes. And you knew, at the time, she wasn’t really with you. “ _I’m leaving tomorrow for Afghanistan_ ”. Her words had you sitting up, scared for a moment she was leaving for the army but when you remembered the mission, you have just frowned. “ _I thought Gibbs and Nick were going._ ” You were back on your feet only to sit next to her. “ _I’m going, instead of Gibbs_ ”, you knew she wasn’t telling you why and you knew the reason for it mattered. But you didn’t ask. You didn’t ask because you didn’t want to push her. 

You’ve learned over this past month there are things she isn’t ready to talk about. You know she served in Afghanistan ten years ago. You know she doesn’t want to talk about it. So you never asked. And now she’s gone. You close your eyes. 

It is going to be a long night. Another one without getting any sleep. You have had some troubles sleeping knowing Jack was back over there, you’ve really had a bad feeling about it. About all of it. You weren't quite convinced her going back was a good idea when she first told you. And now, you are scared you’ll never see her warm smile and bright eyes again. 

You’ve learned over this past month she loves touching your arms when she talks to you. She loves brushing your shoulders with her fingertips. She loves resting her hands on top of yours. She loves contact. You don’t. At least you thought you didn’t. She took it slow. One step at a time. It has been surprising enough for the both of you that you’ve let her in. So she took it slow. Barely touching you at first — this first night at your place not being taken in account. Always staring at your face, looking for your approval. You love the fact she always withdraws her hands if she reads even the tiniest bit of discomfort on your features. You got used to her and her craving for contact. There were still moments you would step away, when your skin would burn under her touch or when you would not feel safe with anyone and would feel the need to be given some space. But Jack gets it and more, she respects it. 

And now, sitting on the same couch on which she has been sitting more times than you thought it’d happen, you feel the ghost of her fingertips dancing on your arm. You absentmindedly touch your cheek. It is damp, now, but you can still remember the burn of her lips kissing you goodbye on her doorstep the night before she left for Afghanistan. You had no idea, back then, that this little display of affection might be the last one she gave you. 

You try to swallow the lump oppressing your throat but you fail. Your pain is too wide to be pushed away. Your concern is too big to be denied. Your sorrow is too overwhelming to be buried. 

In different circumstances you would have had a self-depreciation laugh at the sight of yourself feeling miserable for a woman you’ve really started to know a month ago. But you know Jack is easy to care about. You do care about her. She has become a friend, over the past month. She has become a friend faster than anyone else. She has become a friend in spite of your trust issues. And you find it hard to believe, but it’s true. Because she’s Jacqueline Sloane and she has that effect on people. You’ve told her, once, when you had too much to drink. She has laughed, flattered by the compliment. Resting her hand on the bottom of your back, she has whispered to you “ _I’m just glad I seem to have that effect on you”_ and then, she has driven you back to your place. Not leaving until she was sure you would make it safely into your bed. 

You’ve seen each other a lot, outside of work. For lunch, for dinner, to watch a movie, to share a drink, just to have some fun. She has taught you to dart. You just have to live with the fact you’re not half as good as her. You’ve taught her to cook tiramisu. Hers tasted good but she has warned you she still wanted you to do it for her. You haven’t found the strength — this past month leaving both of you on the edge of a nervous breakdown — nor the time to go dancing, no matter how much she wanted to. Now, you regret it. You should have taken the time. 

You are not going to sleep tonight. 

How could you when you don’t know how Jack and Nick are? You know they are both strong and competent people. You know they would probably make fun of you for worrying so much about them. But they are your people. You’ve struggled to let Nick in because that’s just who you are. You need time. But he’s been patient, understanding it didn’t mean you didn't like him. Because you like the guy. He reminds you of Tony, sometimes. And when he does, you’re glad Ellie doesn’t remind you of Ziva. It would be too much to bear. You feel your heart tightens at the memory of Ziva. You miss your friend. You don’t want to lose another friend. You can’t have another stab in your heart. Not now, not when you’re just hardly put back together. 

It took you time to understand you weren’t weak for feeling things deeply. You just had to learn to handle your emotions before they overwhelmed you. It isn’t easy everyday. You have to fight everyday. But you’re doing better. You manage the best you can. It’s okay to slip. It’s okay to lose control. As long as you put yourself together again. It requires strength. The day you understood that, you also understood you were strong for it. Not weak, as you once assumed. But feeling things deeply and not knowing how to express them make it hard for socializing. Here come your trust issues.

You can’t lose another friend. You’re not quite sure you’ll be able to live through another loss of a loved one. You should probably feel glad Jack and you have only gotten closer over the past month. You find it hard enough to even think about the possibility of losing her, you don’t even want to imagine how it could feel to go through all of this after a year of learning to know her. She has only become close to you over the past month and yet, the fear of losing her is making it hard for you to keep a grip on your emotions. 

The knock on your front door is loud enough to cause you to startle. You weren’t expecting any visitors tonight. Then you realise it’s probably Gibbs checking on you. You don’t know if you rather see him or be alone tonight. Maybe having some company will stop you from mourning all night long or drowning yourself into alcohol. But then, is Gibbs a decent company? You manage to let a little smile curve your lips. You’ve never grown to be close to Gibbs. He seemed to have this father-daughter relationship with every other female agent you’ve known or heard about but you. You don’t know why and you don’t exactly care. You respect him for his job and you know he respects you for yours. 

The banging on your door keeps going, you jump on your feet deciding it’s for the best to let him in before he wakes up all of your neighbors. You sigh, bumping your knee into the corner of your couch in the rush. “ _I’m coming, Gibbs, no need to destroy this poor innocent door”_ you groan as you turn the keys into the locker to let him step inside. 

Except it’s not Gibbs who’s been severely hurting your door for the past couple of minutes. 

She’s standing on your doorway, a soft smile curving her lips, her blond locks falling on her right shoulder. You stare at her, scanning her face in the dark, your eyes looking for potential marks of injuries. She seems fine. Exhausted, if you believe the dark circles under her eyes, but fine. Jack is here. You don’t understand how it’s possible. Last time you heard from Vance was when you left NCIS after the case was solved, four days ago and they had no idea where they were. How is she here, standing on your doorway? 

And then you realise you probably fell asleep on your couch in the middle of your crying session and you just happen to have a lucid dream. There is no way Jack could be here. Someone would have told you if they had found them, right? It’s just a dream. And now, you just have to wake up. 

Except you don’t wake up. You don’t, because it isn’t a dream. Jack is right here, looking at you with a half-confused half-amused expression on her face. Jack is here. Jacqueline is here. Your shoulders relax at the exact instant you understand the meaning of this statement while a big smile curves your lips. 

“ _Jack_ …" you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak any louder without breaking. Her smile widens at the understanding of your feelings: you’ve been worrying over her. It means you care. It means she has someone who truly cares about her. She has you. Any other day, she would have been the one to pull you into a tight embrace and you would have been the one surprised by her endless affection. 

Tonight’s different. Tonight, something’s definitely changing. 

You’re the one who steps forward to surround her with your arms, pressing your body against hers. If she’s taken aback by your sudden display of affection, she doesn’t let it show, leaning on the embrace, her head burying itself into your hair, her hands making their way to your back. You hear her breath slowing down. You think there are tears rolling against your neck but you decide not to pay attention. Maybe she’s crying, maybe you both are. It doesn’t matter. 

She’s here and she seems to be fine. She’s here, pressed against you. She’s back. You didn’t lose her. You feel her breath brushing the sensitive skin of your neck and decide to ignore the shivers running down your spine. Jack reluctantly steps back, her hand coming to cup your cheek. She looks at you with an ocean of emotions dancing in her eyes. 

“ _I've been told they didn’t warn you we’d make it back to base four days ago…_ " your eyes widen, they have known for four days Jack and Nick were fine and no one told you? Maybe you shouldn’t have avoided Ellie’s and Tim’s phone calls. But you thought Gibbs would tell you. Didn’t he know you cared about your team just as much as everyone else? Maybe it is just what you have for not letting them show how you truly care about them. Maybe that’s just what you get for being distant and quiet. But they could have warned you. 

Her hand falls to reach yours and she softly squeezes it. You don’t pull away, instead, you strengthen your grip. You don’t want to let go, not yet. What matters is that Jack is here. You slowly turn around, making sure she’s following you as you pull her into your apartment. “ _No lights huh?_ ” she teases lightly, knowing you were probably feeling off after the worries she put you through. Jack falls on your couch, trying to understand what you’re doing in the darkness of the room. It’s only when she sees lights of the little Christmas tree you’ve put there that she understands, a soft smile curving her lips. You join her on the couch, she takes your hand back in hers. 

“ _Who knew you’d be the one to have a Christmas tree?"_

You laugh, relaxing as her fingers brush the back of your hand, it feels good to know it isn’t the ghost of her previous caress. Jack is here. “ _Hey, I love Christmas okay? If you don’t then you should probably leave before I start playing Christmas songs!_ ”

“ _What if Christmas songs make me want to stay?_

“ _Then you’re definitely my favorite human being on this planet",_ you hear her soft giggle before you both fall into a comfortable silence, staring at the Christmas tree. “ _Do you want to talk about what happened?"_

You know it’s risky. You know she may close up. But from what you can see, she’s considering it: “ _I’m sorry I got you to worry”._

 _“It’s not what I mean, Jacqueline”_ your voice is soft, proving to her your only concerns are about her and only her. 

Jack sighs, resting her head on the back of the couch: “ _I know. But still. Gibbs told me you’ve been worried”_ you frown, it doesn’t make sense if Gibbs knew she was back, why wouldn’t he tell you? “ _I dropped by his place first, with Nick, to escort the senator back to his son. Trust me, I would have come right to you otherwise”._

“ _I’m not jealous you dropped by Gibbs first, you know?”_ You ask lightly, trying to hide what her words really mean for you. She would have come to you first. She’s been thinking about you too. It didn’t matter that she was exhausted, she wanted to see you just as much as you did. This thought warms up your heart. You don’t feel empty anymore.

She laughs and turns her head to look at you: “ _I know. But it was important for me to tell you. Especially when I discovered you were still thinking we were in a potentially dangerous situation... I’m surprised to find you at your place, though, weren’t you considering the possibility of spending Christmas with your family?”_

 _“I spent it with Tim, Delilah, the twins and Abby in the end. I wasn’t really in the mood anyways”_ you answer with a shrug like it’s no big deal. Except it is a big deal, for her.

_“I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas”._

_“Hey…”_ you grab her chin with soft fingers, “ _you didn’t ruin anything, alright?”_ You’d like to tell her she’s your own Christmas miracle but the words don’t make it out of your mind. It’s probably for the best, you don’t want to risk being carried away by all those emotions overwhelming you. 

A small sincere smile is back on her lips as you both look into each other’s eyes. You still have no idea what happened. And like always, Jack seems to read your mind. “ _Short version is we took the wrong road, our vehicle exploded with our driver",_ you frown," _then we found a cave where we stayed for hours, then we got shot”_ concern must be written all over your face because she gently strokes your cheek “ _the senator got shot, not all of us. Then Nick found motorbikes he made his way to camp and back to us with another vehicle in the morning”._

You take some time to process her story. “ _I’m not sure I even want to know what the long version is…"_ and you hear it again, Jack’s hearty laughter at your reaction she certainly wasn’t expecting. You were so scared you would never hear it again. “ _I’m glad you’re okay”._

There’s this soft expression on her face at the realisation, again, that you do care about her. Silence falls between you once more, as you both stare at each other, enjoying the feeling to be reunited after those past days. “ _What about those Christmas songs you promised?_ ” 

A playful smirk is dancing on her lips and you just shake your head at her childlike sides. You like that she’s always so cheerful. You like that she’s always glad to find little sources of happiness in everything. You open the cabinet standing next to the bookshelf and find your Christmas songs CDs. “ _Pick one!_ ” you tell her as you present Jack her options. You like that she seems to concentrate to choose a CD to be listening to like it’s a hard task of some importance. 

She puts the CD in its player and goes through the first songs, definitely looking for one in particular. It’s only when you hear the first notes of _I’ll be home for Christmas_ that you understand. You smile because it almost suits your actual situation. She came home, just on time for Christmas. But she suddenly hits pause, turning her head to look at you: “ _Wanna pretend it’s Christmas Eve tonight?_ ”

You stare at Jack, leaning against the wall. Your eyes suddenly light up at her offer: “ _of course I do!_ ” 

The smile curving her lips erases those past ten days of worries. Jack is here, in your living room, and she wants to celebrate Christmas with you. And it doesn’t matter that Christmas Eve was four days ago. It doesn’t matter that no one in the country is celebrating Christmas tonight. It doesn’t matter that everyone around you is probably getting ready for New Year’s Eve. The two of you are going to make it up for this Christmas she didn’t have a chance to have and this Christmas you didn’t have the chance to enjoy.

 _”We got some things missing then”_ Jack points out, hand on her hip as she mentally goes through everything you’ll need to have your own little Christmas.

 _“Like a Christmas dinner?”_ why is food the first thing you’re thinking about now, you don’t have the answer.

She laughs: “ _Yeah, that too”_ you raise an eyebrow as you understand it wasn’t her priority. “ _We don’t have Christmas presents. We don’t have mistletoe. We didn’t make a snowman or a snowball fight! We don’t have gingerbread!"_

“ _Ah ah!”_ you announce in victory as you quickly disappear into your kitchen only to come back to her with the desired cake. “ _Cooked it yesterday, when I couldn’t sleep! That’s at least one thing you can cross off your list!”_ You wink and burst into laughter when you see Jack glancing at your gingerbread with appetite. You’re glad she doesn’t make any comment on how you weren’t able to sleep. It’s not a conversation you’re ready to have with her yet. It’s not even a confession you’re willing to do to yourself.

“ _Don’t make fun of me, I’m starving! We can make a snowman tomorrow in the morning”_ you nod, trying not to melt at the cuteness of Jack, you had no idea she loved Christmas in such a cliché Christmas way. You were definitely meant to be friends. _“Hey, d’you have some paper and two pens?”_

 _“Just like everybody Jack”_ you open the cabinet again and hand her what she asked for, she only takes one sheet of paper and one of the pens. 

“ _We both write something there for the other. We put them under the Christmas tree but we can only read them when we’re alone. Deal?”_

 _“Deal!”_ you answer with a cheerful tone, her enthuthiasm being contagious. “ _You wanted mistletoe?”_ You ask, not exactly convinced it’s a good idea but when she nods you just give up. Why not? _“I’ve got bay leaves. It’s not mistletoe but it might do the work don’t you think?”_

Jack frantically claps her hands, invading your personal space to place a soft kiss on your cheek: “ _Perfect! You take some, I take some, we both hide the leaves somewhere but don’t tell the other!"_

 _“You really do love Christmas…"_ you laugh again, not remembering the last time you’ve felt that well around someone.

She playfully punches your shoulder: “ _Hey, you’re the one who started it tantalizing me with Christmas songs!"_

True. You just had no idea it would turn her into an excited Jacqueline Sloane wanting to spend Christmas with you and it doesn’t matter that it isn’t the 24th of December anymore. You can’t stop your lips from curving into a bright smile. She wants to spend Christmas with you. You know she doesn’t have a lot of people around. Most of her friends are in California, and you know she hasn’t kept in touch with most of them. Her family seems to be a sensitive spot and you get that. You really do. You wonder how many Christmas she has spent alone as you look at her searching something in your kitchen cupboards. It’s only when she raises the box of cacao powder in the air with an expression of victory tuck on her face that you understand she also wants to make hot chocolate. That’s a shame you don’t have a fireplace. 

“ _We’ll drink it with your gingerbread under the tree okay?_ ” And really, how could you say no to such a lovely plan? 

While she’s preparing the drinks you take a sheet of paper and the pen waiting for you, and you sit at the kitchen island. You’re far enough from Jack for her not to see what you’re writing. You chew the end of your pen, trying to think about what you want to tell her. You don’t want it to sound desperate or over emotional or romantic or too much or cheesy. In short, you want to write the perfect words for the lovely woman she is. You’d like to write the words she deserves to hear but you know you’re not capable to do that without turning yourself into an emotional mess. You stare at Jack’s back. Her blond locks are falling on her black pullover. She’s humming a Christmas song and you get lost in the sound. Her voice is soft and low. You think if you closed your eyes you would likely fall asleep. 

“ _Are you expecting inspiration to be given to you by staring at my back?_ ” 

She’s teasing, causing you to blush. Jack quickly turns her head to look at you over her shoulder, an amused smirk curving her lips. She’s about to tell you it’s okay if you can’t find anything to write but you start writing. Not only as an excuse to escape her intense gaze, you know what to write. You know what you want to tell her. And you know your words will never be spoken out loud so it seems like writing them down is a good idea. 

You’re just done when you feel her chin resting on your shoulder “ _Hey, don’t read!_ ” She tries the puppy eyes to convince you to hand the paper to her but you just shake your head, a bright smile curving your lips again. Jack pouts and you roll your eyes at her — and probably at yourself too, for thinking her cuteness is endless — but still place a soft kiss on her cheek. Jack blinks a couple of times, surprised you’re the one to lean in to kiss her. But happiness quickly takes over confusion. When you’re back from placing your note under the Christmas tree — you smile, she’s let her shoes there — she takes your hand in hers.

“ _So, what about our kind of mistletoe?_ ” You shake your head at her insistence: why does mistletoe matter so much? When Jack’s soft laughter rings near your ear while you’re looking for bay leaves in the cupboard you realise you’ve been mumbling. Why is she always so close? She rests her chin on your shoulder again, waiting for you to find the mistletoe replacement, an arm wrapped around your waist. Problem is you can’t find what you’re looking for. You try to move to your fridge to take a look at the grocery list pinned on it but you’re trapped between Jack and the kitchen plan. You dare not to move. 

“ _I_ _think I used the last ones last week”_ you explain hoping she won’t be too disappointed. You hear Jack humming and then she makes you turn between her arms. When you see the look on her face, you know. “ _But you have a solution don’t you?_ ” 

She nods, proud of herself: “ _Of course I do!_ ” She pulls you behind her, your hand still in hers, and makes you sit on your couch. She gives you another piece of paper and takes one for her. “ _While I write my note for you, just draw some mistletoe, we’ll cut it up and tadaa!"_

Your brows shoot up right away: “ _Wow you really want to kiss me don’t you?_ ” You wink, a smirk on your lips. You know you’re probably blushing but it doesn’t matter: _s_ _he_ is. You know she’s trying to come up with something to say. If she doesn’t, you’re never going to let her forget it. Jacqueline Sloane, short of words, isn’t something that happens quite often. And Jack doesn’t answer anything. She just rolls her eyes, running a hand in her hair. You know for a fact she does that when she’s annoyed, resigned or when she’s being shy. And by the look on her face you can tell it’s the latter. Jacqueline Sloane is being shy around you. You never thought you’d see that day coming. 

When she’s done writing you’re done drawing your fifth bunch of mistletoes of the night. Yes. You did draw five of them. When you only needed two. Needed being a strong verb here. When Jack only wanted two. So much better. Yet, you drew five of them. And you have no idea why. But Jack’s smirk tells you it’s going to be your turn to blush: “ _You came up with five pretextes to kiss me, Y/N, let’s be honest, you’re the one who’s totally looking forward to it!”_

 _“How predictable!"_ you answer right away, teasing her. You’re glad you came up with those words because you would have been as voiceless as her if you hadn't known she was about to say something like that. Jack pretends to pout again but those sparkles in her eyes can’t mislead you. 

She places her note under the Christmas tree, she disappears into the hallway, you wonder why, but then she comes back with a pair of your shoes to place them with hers. You shake your head in disbelief. She’s facing you know, a self-satisfacted smile tucking her lips. The lights are dancing in her eyes and you’re sure you’re seeing mischief here. Her legs are trapping your knees against them and when she leans in towards you, you sink back further into the couch. She is definitely too close. Her arms are resting both sides of your body to help her keep her balance. 

“ _Predictable huh?_ ” 

Her face is hovering over yours and it would be so easy to kiss her. Nope. Don’t start thinking about kissing your friend. Jack is your friend. Your friend. You don’t kiss your friends do you? No, it’s a bad idea. Don’t start thinking about kissing those playful lips! Isn’t she the one who started it with all this mistletoe thing? She must be thinking something quite similar: you see the tip of her tongue moistening her lips. And yet, your brain can’t stop screaming _bad idea_. Her right hand moves closer to your thighs and you have to break the staring contest to check on what she’s about to do. But when her fingers grab the cut bunches of paper mistletoe, you understand. 

“ _So, since you’re hurting my ego telling me I’m predictable, I get to hide four of them and you only have one._ ”

You don’t even have time to complain about how unfair it is she’s telling you to close your eyes. You hear her footsteps getting distant but then she comes back telling you she doesn’t trust you not to open your eyes — with very poor regards for your protestations — and that she therefore needs a scarf to blindfold you. You tell her you’ve got scarfs in the closet of your bedroom. You’re about to go get one for her but she pushes you back on the couch and goes into your bedroom herself. “ _Sure, make yourself at home!_ ” You laugh waiting for her to return. It doesn’t take long and you’re now trying to convince yourself it is a completely normal situation to have Jacqueline Sloane blindfolding you so she can hide false bunches of mistletoe in your apartment. Yup. Nothing weird about any of it. Nothing. 

When Jack is back on the couch sitting against you after what has seemed to be forever for you, she doesn’t set you free from the scarf right away. Her hand surprises you as it rests on your back. But it is nothing compared to the surprise you feel when her arms wrap your waist to pull you into a tight embrace, Jack’s head resting against yours. Not being able to see definitely increases all your sensations. 

" _Merry Christmas, Y/N._ ” 

You wrap your arms against her, enjoying the comfort of the hug. “ _Merry Christmas to you, Jacqueline”_ and you try to kiss her cheek. It isn’t exactly easy, since you’re still blind. But you manage to place a soft kiss at the corner of her lips. You feel them curving into an honest smile and you instantly know it doesn’t matter that you almost kissed her. Her left hand follows your spine till it reaches your neck. Her thumb softly brushes the skin hidden by your hair for a second before her fingers grab the knot holding the scarf. 

“ _I_ _t definitely is a merry Christmas_ ” Jack whispers unfastening the knot causing the scarf to fall between your bodies. Her hand moves to your cheek and she allows her fingers to linger on your skin. Your eyes start scanning around her but there is no more sign of the paper mistletoes. You meet her gaze and start laughing softly at her guilty face: “ _you couldn’t resist, could you?_ ” Jack tilts her head timidly and joins your quiet laugh, pulling her hand away: “ _What can I say, I really want to kiss you by surprise! Trying not to be predictable here!_ ” 

You playfully raise an eyebrow but she’s back on her feet again and you wonder why. But then you remember the absence of music. Jack heads right to the player to let the song start over. The music starts filling the room and you can’t help but enjoy the feeling of being at home. It’s not only about being at your place for Christmas. It’s about being there with Jack. And you know this feeling too much. And you’re not quite ready to go there yet. But you allow yourself to just enjoy the moment. You’ll worry about your feelings later. 

For now, you just want to keep looking at Jack’s peaceful face. Her eyes are closed as she hums the melody, softly swaying on her feet, her hand holding her cup of hot chocolate. She takes a sip before placing it down on the table and offering you her hand: “ _Dance with me?_ ” You don’t say anything about _I’ll be home for Christmas_ not exactly being a song to dance and place your hand in hers, getting you off the couch. Her right arm finds its way back around your waist, her left hand comes to rest on the back of your neck, delicately stroking your skin. You slowly place your right hand on her lower back, and your left arm around her neck. You both softly swing in each other’s arms. 

Jack rests her forehead against yours, closing her eyes again. You can’t erase the smile tuck on your lips. It has been years since you last felt that well. And from the way Jack’s face is free from concern and anxiety, you suppose it might as well be true for her. You love the way her humming is barely perceptible and that you two are close enough for you to enjoy it. It is just the two of you now, the worries of the past days suddenly seem to have been forgotten a long time ago. It’s almost like Jack has always been here with you. 

You close your eyes too as the music moves on to _The Christmas Song_. You love this song so much. It reminds you of the good old days with your family when everything was still easy, when you were this little girl who thought it might stay like this forever. You usually feel nostalgic, listening to it. It makes you miss home, it makes you miss your family. But tonight, this song doesn’t feel bitter sweet. Tonight, this song doesn’t bring good memories tucking a sad smile on your lips and filling your eyes with tears. 

Tonight, the song enhances the feeling of home. You’re safe in Jack’s arms. She’s here and she won’t go anywhere anytime soon. She’s here and you’re loved. Your friend is here with you after a couple of bad days in the desert. She decided to stay with you. You have no idea it’s because she feels it too, like it’s home. It means a lot to her because Jack has always struggled to find a place that might feel like home to her. 

Everytime she would hear the famous _there’s no place like home_ she would feel the ache in her heart, ducking her head, trying not to let tears blurr her sight as she would think she doesn’t know this feeling. But if her lips curve into a bright smile as you both share this soft dance in your living room only lightened by the Christmas lights, it’s because Jack knows that, from now, she gets it. Everything’s changing tonight. Next time she’ll hear someone say _there’s no place like home_ , she would think of the comfort of being in your arms on this almost Christmas night, she would think of the smell of gingerbread and hot chocolate, she would think of the softness of your skin under her small shy touches. Next time, she might even be the one saying it outloud. Because now, she has her home. You’ve turned this city where she didn’t know anyone, into her home. And Jack knows she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else tonight. 

You open your eyes to catch her stare at your face. Jack offers you a shy smile, blushing at the idea of having been caught. But when you answer with a soft happy smile, she doesn’t mind anymore. She brushes her nose against yours as the song comes to an end. Your eyes shut themselves, allowing you to focus on your sensations. The softness of her skin, her breath caressing your lips, her perfume surrounding you. You wish this night could never end but when her stomach loudly groans, you know it’s time to start eating this gingerbread. Jack doesn’t stop apologizing for the noise. That’s how you understand she’s as reluctant as you at the idea of pulling away from you. 

You’re the one taking her hand in yours this time, to lead her to the Christmas tree. You hand a plate to her and take one for you, joining her on the floor. You start eating, not feeling it necessary to have to make small talk. The music fills the room and you just enjoy being there together. When Jack goes for a third slice of your cake, you smile at her. “ _You know you’ll have to cook gingerbread for me every Christmas now right?_ ” 

When you’re done eating, you lie down under the tree only to stare at the lights. Her hand slowly closes the distance with yours, intertwining your fingers. You don’t notice her head is turned towards you. You don’t notice her eyes staring at you. You just listen to _It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,_ your eyes not leaving the lights. You two are close, too close maybe. You don’t want to turn your head. You know you’re too close for your lips not to be tempted to kiss hers. You don’t trust yourself around her at the present time. There’s something about her. There’s something about this Christmas night. There’s something that isn’t caused by wine. You’re sober. Tonight, something’s changing. 

Maybe because tonight, you feel it. You were scared to lose her. You weren’t only scared to lose your dear friend. Tonight, you know Jacqueline Sloane isn’t just a friend to you. But you also know you are not quite there yet. You and Jack can be friends. You’re fine with it. You’re not ready for more yet. But you know there’s something different about Jack. You just don’t know what it is. But on this false Christmas night, after her miracle arrival, you want to believe everything is possible. 

“ _I was scared it would happen again”_ Jack lowly whispers in your ear “ _you know, the thing you know I’m not telling you”_ you nod, slowly turning your head to meet her eyes “ _I was scared this would happen again_ ”. You squeeze her hand at the sight of the tears building in her eyes. You want to comfort her. As much as you can. You know it won’t be enough. But you’d like to ease her burden. You’d like to lend her a shoulder to share the weight of her past. She has to decide if that’s what she wants. You lift your hands to your lips and place a soft kiss on the back of hers. A soft smile appears on her lips.

“ _T_ _hank you, Y/N_ . _For not asking about my past, even if you know there’s something about it. I know it might be hard not to know, for you. It isn’t always easy, for the loved ones of people who went through… of people like me. It’s not easy knowing there’s something but not knowing what it is. It’s not easy, not asking questions. It’s not easy, accepting the fact that you can’t help with everything. It’s not easy either understanding that not everything can be shared and that it does not mean, in any way, that you’re not trusted enough. So, thank you, Y/N, I needed that. I needed this time you gave me. Thank you, for trusting me like you did._ ”

You haven’t seen that coming and you weren’t prepared enough for such a heart to heart talk. You turn your whole body on your right side, to face Jack. Your free hand cups her cheek, she closes her eyes the moment your skin touches hers. The tip of your thumb softly brushes the teardrop on her eyelashes. She sighs of content at the touch. 

You clear your throat before speaking because you don’t trust your voice not to break after such a sincere confession: “ _I_ _… I don’t know what to say, Jacqueline_ ” and you suddenly feel like you’re the dumbest person on this planet for saying this outloud. But her soft laugh helps you to relax. 

“ _I’m not expecting you to say anything, Y/N. I needed to tell you all that, you don’t have to tell me anything_ ” Jack softly whispers, placing her hand on the one on her cheek. She doesn’t want you to withdraw your hand. 

You take a deep sigh before closing your eyes. There are things you want to tell her too. You just don’t know how to do it. Sentences are building into your head but you never find the strength to speak them outloud. You don’t even know if it’s a question of strength. Words are written in your mind. You can mentally see them. But they never cross your lips. No matter how many times you picture yourself saying them outloud, they remain unspoken. Maybe it isn’t a question of strength. Maybe you just don’t feel safe enough to talk about what is really going on in your mind. Maybe you don’t feel confident enough to talk about something that really matters. It’s not that you don’t trust Jack. You do. You really do. 

You don’t really know why. It’s been a month and yet, she has earned your most sincere trust. But those words are forming in your mind and you can’t tell them to her, no matter how sincerely you trust her. Maybe you just need more time. It isn’t easy, opening up to people. It isn’t easy, putting words on complexe emotions. It isn’t easy, letting someone in. Maybe you’re just not quite there yet. Just because you trust her doesn’t mean you can fully let her in. 

“ _You’re doing it again_ ” Jack whispers, softly taping the tip of your nose with her finger. You open your eyes to meet hers. “ _Y_ _ou don’t have to say anything. I won’t be offended that you can’t. I know you, Y/N. And I know you’re trying hard but it isn’t easy for you_ . _I don’t mind waiting for you”._

You don’t answer yet. Jack is probably right. You’d like to open up to her. You’d like to let her in but you can’t really let it happen yet. You’ve been building walls around you for your whole life. You’ve been struggling to open up to people for your whole life. You don’t know how to do it. You just have to learn. And at least, you’re trying. You need to be patient. You know it will happen, eventually. And you know when it does, Jack will be here. 

“ _Thank you_ ” you whisper without even thinking about it “ _f_ _or being so understanding_ ”. Especially when you’re being too hard on yourself for that. Yes, you can change it. But you have to understand you’re going to need time. And to be kind to yourself. Little victories are worth celebrating too. And when Jack softly squeezes your hand, you remember tonight is one of those nights, one to celebrate. “ _I just hope you know I’m here if you need me, for whatever you need_ ” you finally answer her confession.

Jack nods and mouths _I do_. 

“ _I_ _know I’ve told you that before_ ” you start looking for your words, blaming yourself for not being able to finish a simple sentence without instantanely feeling insecure " _but I’m truly glad you’re here tonight"._

Your words cause her lips to curve into a bright sincere smile: “ _being here with you is my own Christmas miracle, Y/N_ ”. Before you have time to tell her you were thinking the same, Jack leans in to softly kiss the corner of your lips. When you blink in surprises, she just points at the top of the tree. 

“ _You seriously hanged homemade mistletoe on a Christmas tree? How unusual!_ ” 

Jack rests her forehead against yours: “ _that’s one, four to go”_. You close your eyes. Jack’s face is too close to yours and you know this dizziness you’re feeling now may turn this whole evening into a complete disaster if you’re not careful enough. How much you want to lean in and just kiss her…

But Jack is your friend. She doesn’t see you this way. You try not to cringe: you don’t even know what you’d like Jack to see you like. It’s just confusing and painful to think about it now. And the way she’s teasing you doesn’t help to clarify your growing confusion. You know it’s who Jacqueline Sloane is. You wonder if there’s more to it. You don’t wonder for too long. You don’t want to think about it tonight. You’re mentally blaming yourself for overthinking again when Jack’s soft voice interrupts you: “ _when I was in the cave and Nick was gone seeking for help… I was… I was obsessed with three things_ ”.

You open your eyes to face her because Jack deserves to have your full attention. 

“ _I was scared it would happen again. I was scared I wouldn’t get the chance to find the thing I was looking for. And I was… completely terrified that you would never know the real reason for me going to Afghanistan_ ”. Jack has a self depreciation laugh surprising you, “ _that’s stupid, isn’t it?_ ” You just shake your head, not daring to talk, scared it would prevent her from talking any further. “ _I know you disapproved. I know you were just nice enough not to tell me when I told you I was leaving. But I know you thought it was a bad idea. Just like Leon did. And waiting for someone to rescue us in this cave, I was just blaming myself for not telling you_ ”. 

Jack takes a deep breath. She seems to be lost in her thoughts again. You place your hand back on her cheek and as softly as you can, you whisper: “ _hey_ …” her head startles a bit “ _don’t play it over and over in your mind, you’re safe now. You’re here_ ”. 

Jack nods. She gives you a smile but you know she’s just trying to fake happiness. Vain attempt, you see right through it. “ _I guess I was just terrified I would never see you again_ ”. 

“ _I had those fears myself_ ” you admit without second thoughts. 

Jack smiles, sincerely this time: “ _I like it when you’re too spontaneous to overthink every single thing you say, you know?_ ”

You both try to ignore what you both really meant by this. Because it’s obvious, isn’t it? When you say you are scared to lose someone what you really mean is you love them. What you really mean is they matter to you. What you really mean is “I can’t imagine living in a world where you aren’t”. And _this_ is exactly what terrifies you. The both of you. 

It terrifies you because you’ve lost them before. Because Ziva died. You joined the team not long after Ziva did. She was like a sister to you. She was like a sister to Tim. And when she died, you weren’t sure you would still be able to exist in a world where Ziva David wouldn’t be there to kick asses. But when Ziva died, Tim was there. You had each other’s back. It took you almost a year to be able to breath again without being overwhelmed and having frequent panic attacks. It took you almost a year to be able to live with your sorrow. It took almost a year for the pain to be hardly bearable. 

It terrifies you to know you could lose Jack one day. She could just leave for work and have a car crash. She could go on the field and get shot. She could disappear, just like that. It doesn’t take long for people to be wiped out. A fraction of second. Such an insignificant amount of time. Yet, it changes one’s life forever. It turns someone from a mere human being to a non existing human being. You’re scared to lose Jack one day. Because, eventually, she may leave you too. The elevator doors may close on her bright smile and you may never see her again. And if you let her in, if you embrace your love for her, you’re taking that risk. The risk to have to learn living in a world where she isn’t. The risk to have to go through this all over again. You wouldn’t be losing your sister, though. You’d be losing someone else. Someone who would mean something else to you. Something strong. And it terrifies you.

But it terrifies Jacqueline too. She doesn’t let people in. She still blames herself for what has happened to her team. You just don’t know that yet. You don’t know she’s suffering from survivor guilt. You _suppose_ she probably does, that’s all. And yes, Jack actually does. How could she allow herself to be happy when she thinks she killed them? How could she even deserve to live when she thinks she’s the reason they aren’t here? How could she let you in when she thinks she’s a threat for you and you’ll inevitably end up hurt or dead? 

And it terrifies her because she was scared she wouldn’t see you again. You were the person she thought of when waiting in the cave. It does not mean nothing and Jack knows that. And she’s scared. She can’t risk losing you. Not when she can barely live with herself. 

“ _Do you want to tell me now, then?_ ” 

Jack bites her lips, looking at the ceiling. “ _Later maybe…_ ” she whispers, turning her head to face yours, hoping she won’t catch a flash of disappointment on your face. And she doesn’t. You understand. Jack intertwines her fingers with yours again, squeezing your hand while her free hand takes another slide of gingerbread: “ _do you think there’ll be enough left for breakfast tomorrow?_ ” 

“ _Seriously Jack? There’s only two slides left!"_ you shake your head, amused. She has devoured it all. 

“ _You’re the only one to blame there, if it didn’t taste that good I wouldn’t have been guilty of depriving us of breakfast, my sweet Y/N…_ ” You bite your lips trying not to smirk too much before suggesting you could just have pancakes for breakfast. “ _Does it mean I can eat the two slides left?_ ” you nod laughing at her excitement when she softly kisses your cheeks “ _oh how much I love you!_ ” 

You open a bottle of red wine and both take a sip sitting in front of the tree. The Cd is playing on a loop but none of you really mind. You just love Christmas songs. Once again, it makes you feel at home. 

“ _Did you have a specific ritual when you were a kid?_ ” Jack asks, placing her lips on the edge of her glass. 

You try to remember if there was something recurring in your childhood Christmas, but nothing comes to your mind: “ _I’d spend a year with my mother's family, the next one with my father’s. So we didn’t really have any ritual on our own. What about you?_ ” 

Jack softly laughs as she starts remembering her child self on Christmas night: “ _you’ve probably noticed I kinda love Christmas in a very cliché way…_ ” you roll your eyes at the obvious “ _got to thank my parents for that. We would always find a tree for the 1st of December and we would decorate it in the evening while listening to Christmas songs. My mother would make hot chocolate and we would all eat Christmas cookies staring at the Christmas tree. Every day till Christmas’ Eve, my parents would hide little presents in the house and in the garden for my brother and I to find them. It usually was little biscuits, things my father made for us, cards with kind words. But the real fun was finding it. When I was little my brother would help me find them but when I got five he decided I was old enough to go on this treasure hunt by my own and we turned it into a competition_ ”. 

You smile when Jack’s eyes meet yours: “ _it sounds like you had a nice childhood"_. You try to imagine a five years old Jacqueline Sloane running into the snow to find snowflake shortbreads in the mailbox. You didn’t know she had a brother. She never talked about him before. She never really mentioned her parents either, you knew very little about them. You know her father is leaving in Philadelphia and you have supposed, by the hint of sadness in her eyes the few times she has mentioned her, that her mother died years ago. But a brother has never been mentioned, you’re sure about that.

“ _I don’t usually talk about him. My brother, I mean. It’s complicated"_ Jack whispers running a hand in her hair. You feel your chest tighten. Why does she have to suffer so much? 

“ _You don’t have to explain, it’s fine_ ” you smile when she rests her head on your shoulder, closing her eyes to enjoy the smell of your perfume “ _what I’d like to know, though, is where your love from mistletoe comes from!_ ”

Jack muffles her laughter by placing her lips on your shoulder: “ _I have no rational explanation for that_ ”. 

Your right arm circles her waist, pulling her closer. You’re not one to go for contact but you’ve known it the moment you’ve seen her on your doorstep, tonight is different. Tonight is out of time. You take another sip of red wine, noticing she has finished hers already. 

“ _Can I ask you something?_ ” Jack looks up to meet your eyes, you nod at her request, “ _why didn’t you spend Christmas with your family? Real reason._ ” 

She knows it’s a big question. She knows you may not answer. She knows it may trigger a too emotional moment. But you shrug and try to explain the best you can: “ _we had this case involving the senator’s son. And Nick and you were missing. To be at home in time, I should have left in the middle of the case and I just couldn’t do that. Not when I didn’t know if… if you were alright_ ” you clear your throat. Your voice is surprisingly sharp when you add: “ _and I wasn’t exactly expected to be there this year so…_ ” 

Jack must feel your pain, she places a soft hand on your cheek. You’ve lost count on how many times she has done that tonight. It doesn’t matter, it still manages to comfort you. You lean on the touch, closing your eyes. “ _I’m fine_ ” you whisper, not wanting Jack to worry about you. Not after the exhausting days she just had. 

Jack reaches for your hand and pulls you back on your feet. You sway a bit, feeling dizzy of having been put back on your feet so fast with no warning. Jack smiles, holding you on your feet with her arm around your waist. You wonder what is going to happen next. Are you going to dance again? Are you going to play in the snow? Are you going to cuddle on your bed watching Christmas movies? It’s late, and you can tell you’re both tired. 

“ _I don’t want this night to end…_ ” Jack whispers softly, as she wraps her other arm around your body, pulling you in another embrace. She fights a yawn but she has barely slept since she left for Afghanistan. It was ten days ago. Strongly holding your hand, she walks to the couch and makes you sit next to her. 

It mustn’t be enough for her, Jack circles your waist with her right arm and places her left hand under your knees. In a fraction of seconds, you’re sitting on her lap, your right shoulder pressed against hers. Her warm palm rests on your hip, holding you in place. You place your left hand behind her head, your elbow resting on the back of the couch, your fingers tickling her neck, delicately caressed by her soft hair. You suddenly feel her chin resting on your shoulder. Her low breath tickles your skin. You try not to shiver but you know it’s vain.

You have never been that intimate before. You know there’s something different about the night. There’s this part of you screaming danger, ordering you to pull away and to put some decent distance between Jacqueline and you because _this_ , whatever it is, doesn’t feel safe yet. But this other part of you is stronger tonight and just says “screw you” to your other voice. Because you want this. You want this intimacy. You want this close contact. You want this tender display of affection. 

You’re sure about one thing, you don’t want to pull away. And you know you’ll have to, eventually. You close your eyes, resting your head against the top of Jack’s. You send the worries away and just enjoy the moment. You’re home. Tonight’s peaceful and safe. You both needed that.

You wake up shivering. You blink several times, trying to see something in your living room. Little by little, your eyes get used to the not total darkness. You try to stretch but as soon as you go to move your arm, you feel the weight of the head of a sleeping Jacqueline on it. You don’t know what to do. You don’t want to wake her but you can’t keep sleeping on your couch, in that position. Jack doesn’t seem to mind. You hear a groan and she shifts to bury her head in the crook of your neck, her hands respectively firmly grabbing your hip and your waist. “ _Don’t go_ ” she mumbles with a raspy voice. 

“ _Bed_ ” you mumble back, not awake enough to bother speaking full sentences. 

“ _But I haven’t kissed you yet_ , _tonight can’t end_ ” Jack shakes her head, rubbing her eyes as she tries to fight her exhaustion. It’s only when she realises how it sounds that she blushes. “ _Guess you were right, I really want to kiss you…_ ” she mutters. You tiredly laugh, a sleepy Jack definitely lacks filter. 

Her face is hovering over yours, her eyes darting to your lips. You gulp, your fingertips sinking in the skin of her neck: “ _then do it?_ ” you didn’t exactly mean to say that as a question but you haven’t been able to repress the flinch at the end of your sentence. 

“ _Bed, then_ ” Jack orders helping you off her lap. You frown, a bit confused. Was she just testing you? She lets her hand hang in the air between you two, waiting for you to place your hand in hers. When she’s tired of waiting, she takes your hand herself. “ _What’s wrong honey?_ ” Jack asks in a yawn when she feels your whole body tense up. 

You shrug and mumble that you're probably just tired. Jack stops walking, turning her head to check on you but you duck your face, avoiding her gaze. It’s not exactly that you’re disappointed, though, there’s a part of you who is, you just suppose it’s the result of your extreme tiredness. You’re scared of making her feel uncomfortable. You don’t want to have feelings for your friend because you know how it will end. The few displays of affection you give her will become even scarcer because you’ll always worry about how Jack might interpret your gestures. Will she see right through it? Will it make her feel uncomfortable? Will your friendship become awkward? You know it will. She may not be the one who causes awkwardness to settle between the two of you, but you will. It’s as predictable as saying the sun will rise again in the morning. 

“ _Did I say something wrong?_ ” Jack asks, pushing the door of your bathroom with her elbow. She doesn’t look at you in the eyes, not liking what she sees there. She didn’t want the night to come to an end, yet, the magic of your own special Christmas Eve is gone in your eyes. She just wishes it could have lasted a bit longer, at least until she fell asleep. But something has broken your moment and she hasn’t even noticed. You catch her staring at the ceiling for too long, right at the top of the mirror above the sink. 

You pretend you don’t see the glint of hope in her brown eyes when they fall from the homemade mistletoe hanging there, to your face. You ignore it and break her gaze to reach for your toothbrush. Jack’s the red one, yours is the green toothbrush. You stare at the pair for a few seconds, enjoying the familiarity of it. The violet, light blue and dark blue ones are respectively Ellie’s, Tim’s and Abby’s. So much for you not being a people person… But they aren’t anyone. Two of them are your family, they have been keeping emergency toothbrushes at your place for years now. One is, as she likes to call herself, your best friend, and having a spare toothbrush quickly became a necessity when she would show up at your door for an unplanned sleepover. The last one having joined the pot is Jack’s, two weeks ago, and Jack is… you shake your head, sticking the toothbrush in your mouth, watching Jack doing the same. 

“ _S_ _o? Did I do something wrong?", s_ he repeats barely audibly, her mouth filled with toothpaste lather. You’re both standing side to side, but Jack is staring at you in the mirror. 

You shake your head before spitting in the sink: “ _no, told you, I’m just tired_ ”. 

Jack stays silent while you wash your mouth and place the toothbrush back in the pot. She bends over to spit in the sink too, going through the exact same gestures. You try to escape the bathroom while she’s washing her mouth but her hand quickly flies to reach for your wrist and holds you in place. “ _I should ask Gibbs to make a new rule about never lying to a profiler_ ”, she mumbles, turning around to face you, her fingers not letting go of your wrist yet, softly stroking your skin. You slightly squirm on your feet, not feeling comfortable with the touch on this part of your body. Jack notices and immediately stops moving her fingers. _Are we okay?_ ” 

She asks with such hesitation you slightly rear back in surprise. Jack takes your gesture for rejection and her hand suddenly falls from your wrist, her arms wrapping around herself in an attempt to protect herself. “ _We should go to bed_ ” she whispers, keeping her voice down to make sure it’s fully under control. 

But before she has the chance to turn around and leave, you place your hand on her cheek, instantanely feeling guilty for making her feel unwanted: “ _of course we’re okay, Jacqueline_ ”. The little smile curving her lips isn't convincing enough. “ _I guess I’m just grumpy because I too don’t want this night to end..._ ” It isn’t the whole truth but at least it isn’t a lie either. And it is enough to tuck a sincere smile on her lips. 

“ _It’s not over, yet_ ” Jack murmurs, moving closer to you, bringing her right hand to your neck, allowing her fingers to play with a wild strand of hair, “ _and we still have plenty of things to do tomorrow_ ”. She leans in to kiss the corner of your lips again, but this time, she presses her lips against yours a bit longer, her hand in your neck preventing you from withdrawing. Her lips moving against your skin, she adds in a whisper: “ _I_ _can’t wait to play in the snow with you_ ”. 

With the promise of a lovely morning, you make your way to your bedroom. No one could erase the smiles on your lips. You’ve known it from the moment you opened the door on her: tonight is different, something is changing. You’ve known it. Now, you fully feel it. It doesn’t feel unsafe as it did earlier tonight. Maybe it’s the late hour. Maybe it’s the warm hand holding yours. But change feels safe, at this moment of your life. 

You turn around to let Jack slip into a pair of pyjamas and you start looking in your dresser drawers. Not finding what you’re looking for, you curse the mess in there in a groan causing Jack to softly giggle behind you. Resting her chin on your shoulder, she stares at your hand turning the whole drawer upside down. 

“ _Here it is!_ ” you exclaim in glory, raising your hand in the air, holding the small object. You open your fingers to reveal what the treasure you’ve been struggling to find. 

Jack’s eyes go back and forth between the object placed in your hand and your face, lightened by a bright smile. “ _Y_ _ou bought a night-light for me?_ ” she asks incredulously, a smile starting to curve her lips. 

You nod, tucking back a strand of hair behind her ear: “ _I’ve noticed you had one at your place, just thought it could help to have one here too_ ”. 

By the way her face lights up, you know you were right to assume she would never ask for one but it would make her feel safer to have one. She has slept at your place without a night-light before, and she has struggled to fall asleep, even if she has never said anything about it. But the first time you spent at her place and slept there, you finally learned what you had to do to make her feel welcomed. 

She pulls you into a tight embrace, whispering in your ear: “ _thank you, Y/N_ ”. Closing her eyes, Jack feels overwhelmed by emotion. Some could have said the gesture isn’t that important. That it is a small and insignificant thing to do. They could have even said she was overreacting to such a simple friendly attention. But Jack has never said anything to anyone about her night terrors. Well, anyone but Leon. But Leon isn’t anyone to her. He’s her savior, her best friend, her brother. He knows her and what she has been through. He knows everything from her soft childhood to her darkest moments. Apart from Leon, no one has ever known about her night terrors and she has never planned to tell anyone else. She didn’t want pity. She didn’t want to be seen as weak and fragile. 

But you found out by yourself. Because you care about her. And it has become more and more obvious tonight, that you did care about her in a way she isn’t used to. She could get used to it. She feels it. She wants to get used to it. Because she knows no matter how familiar it becomes, she’ll never get tired of it. You found out about her night terrors weeks ago and yet, you haven’t changed around her. You still behaved the way you always did. You didn’t give her pity. She has never seen the reflection of weakness and fragility in your eyes when they were looking at her. You care about her, and your tenderness is all she sees. You don’t make her feel small or broken. 

“ _Thank you, for making me feel at home_ ”. 

You’re almost asleep when you hear her voice calling your name in the distance. She seems so far away, you have to put an incredible amount of effort to get back to her and not just fall in your dreams. You turn around to look at her but Jack is staring at the ceiling. She does that a lot, when she’s preoccupied. And thanks to the night-light, you see them, those silent tears rolling down her cheeks. 

You don’t ask “what’s wrong”, you don’t ask “are you alright”, you don’t ask “what’s happening”, because you know. You whisper her name. She turns her head to face you. “ _Can I tell you now?_ ” she asks with a trembling voice. You nod in the obscurity. You don’t say a word because you’re scared it might make her change her mind. It’s not that you want to know, at all costs. You feel like she needs to talk about it. She doesn’t have to tell you everything. But you know she needs to get some off her chest.

“ _I_ _wanted to go back because we left something there. Well… I left something there_ ” you frown at the way she emphasizes the first pronoun, wondering if what you feared happened is what indeed happened. “ _I left a lot of things there_ ” Jack repeats with a bitter laugh. You know coldness is a coping mechanism to distance oneself from what has happened. You also know anger is a common reaction to replace a too painful sorrow that can’t be bear anymore.

“ _There is a wall, back to base, under one of the guard towers. Things have been scratched into this wall for as long as the wall has been there_ ” Jack stops talking again, picturing the wall in her head “ _and we wrote the name. On the wall”_ another silence filled by painful memories, _“WINGOS”_ she whispers. You barely hear the word her mouth is forming, too concerned about the hurt you hear in her voice. “ _It was…"_ Jack clears her voice, trying to hold back her emotions, “ _it was the name of our team"_ after a few seconds, she adds _“op was classified_ ”. 

As she stops talking again, you just wait in silence, noticing her last words seem to be an automatism. Maybe something she says when people ask her about her time in the army.

“ _T_ _en years ago_ ” Jack adds, looking at you. “ _We’ve been held hostage_ ” her fingers nervously tap the mattress “ _Leon led the mission that was sent to rescue a man who was being held hostage with us_ ”. You’re starting to put the pieces together. It suddenly makes more sense. When you overheard the director tell Gibbs that he was just trying to _prevent history from repeating itself_ , you haven’t completely understood his concern, at first, neither had Gibbs from what you’ve seen. But you do, now. All this time, it has just been Leon Vance taking care of Jacqueline. 

“ _Back to base, I put our four insignias in the red box we had written our names and numbers on. Then I…_ ” she closes her eyes, clenching her fists in an attempt to control her pain at the memories. As softly as you can, you place your hand on her clenched fist. Her eyes flutter opened at the touch. She stares at you in silence and finally unclenched her fist. But you don’t withdraw your hand. “ _I_ _buried the box in front of our scratched team name_ ”.

Jack swallows a sob, but tears are streaming down her cheeks, crashing on the pillow. “ _That’s why I wanted to go back. The box is now in the glove compartment of my car waiting for me to be strong enough to open it again_ ”. 

You don’t like how bitter she sounds towards herself. You get it now. You hear it in her voice. The blame, the guilt. You see right through the happy facade she’s put on around everyone. You would have never suspected it could be that bad. Jack has always pretended to be fine. She has fooled everyone around her. No one, on Gibbs’ team, suspects that she has such a dark past. Not even Clay who did some digging in a vain attempt to learn more about the new psychologist. You knew, it was dark. You’ve suspected it from the moment she mentioned it that first night at your place. You had no idea how dark it was. 

“ _I opened it, you know_ ” Jack confesses after you’ve started to wipe away her tears with your thumb. “ _After I dug it out_ ” she takes a deep breath, briefly closing her eyes before looking back at yours, “ _b_ _ut it was too much_ ”. 

And with this confession, Jack slightly shifts to lay closer to you. You welcome her with opened arms, wrapping them around her body. Her head is resting on your shoulder, her fingers are nervously playing with the buttons of your top, her legs are strongly tangled with yours. She needs it to feel safe. 

“ _But I wasn’t strong enough_ ” and she brusquely tries to pull away, her face duck in shame. But you don’t let go, your arms holding her against you. 

“ _Don’t go_ ” you whisper in her ear. You would have let her go, if she had wanted it because she was feeling good enough. But you know it isn’t the reason for her sudden pullback.

“ _I can’t do that_ ”, Jack answers. Her voice breaking feels like a punch in your stomach. “ _I…_ ” the tears start building in her eyes again “ _I don’t deserve this_ ”. She can’t look at you in the eyes. You’re hit by the realization that she has probably pushed everything down for the last ten years. Coping by not feeling. Coping by shoving it down. You don’t blame her; how could you ever blame her? And opening the box has also a metaphorical meaning in her situation. She hasn’t only opened the red metal box. She has reopened her unhealed wounds. 

You shake your head, cuping hers with your two hands to make her look at you: “ _don’t do that_ ” you keep your voice down too, afraid to let her show how much her break down affects you, “ _you are worthy of love, you deserved to have someone who cares about you, someone who’s here to hold you when you need it_ ” you look right into her eyes, you need Jack to know how much you mean every single word. “ _If this is you telling me you need me to let you go because you don’t want me to hold you any longer, fine, I’ll let you go_ ” Jack takes another deep breath, not breaking your gaze, “ _but if this is you punishing yourself for something you aren’t responsible for, I won’t let you go, I won’t give up on you_ ”. 

“ _You don’t know what you’re talking about_ ”. Her voice is sharp, there’s anger in her tone and it pains you to know it’s directed at you. But Jack needs you to be there for her. If she pushes you away, you need to stay. “ _You don’t even know what happened!_ ” you wish you have had a different reaction but you rear back of surprise at her yelling. Jack uses this opportunity to untangle herself from you. “ _I shouldn’t have survived_ ” she finally whispers, resting her forehead against her knees. 

You don’t know what to say. Because she’s right. You don’t know what happened. You don’t know what fears, what tears, what angers she keeps inside. You don’t know how dark her mind can sometimes be. You don’t know anything about the guilt she has to live with. You don’t know anything about how real it is, when she says she wished she was dead. You don’t know what to say. You consider calling Vance. It is late in the night, but you assume he would do anything for Jack. Anything, including interrupting his holidays with his family.

But a muffled broken “ _I’m sorry_ ” comes to your ear. Barely audible, but you hear it. You hesitantly place a hand on her shoulder, Jack doesn’t seem to stiffen at the contact. “ _Is it okay if I get closer?_ ” you ask with a soft voice. When she nods, you wrap an arm around her legs and rest your head against her head, stroking her back with your left hand. “ _I’m so sorry_ ” she repeats in a cry. 

“ _Don’t be_ ”, you whisper, your lips kissing the top of her head, “ _don’t be_ ”. You both stay silent for a while. But the cries don’t stop. “ _I_ _wish I knew what to do. I wish I knew the right words to ease your pain_ ”, you confess in a murmur, holding her tightly pressed against you. “ _But don’t ever apologize, for coping the best you know how_ ”. 

And Jack raises her head, a small shy fragile smile curving her lips behind the tears: “ _you can’t make me change my mind, when I say I don’t deserve this_ ”, you bite your lips, pained by this thoughts that is so deeply scratched in her mind, “ _but it feels good, to feel ..._ ” the word stays suspended on her lips for a few seconds, “ _t_ _o feel loved_ ”. 

No more words are spoken. You stay silent, holding onto each other, tightly pressed together in the middle of your bed. Rays of early morning lights are dancing in your bedroom. Full circles of white light are dancing on her face. Jack has stopped crying. You know it isn’t because she feels better. Jack has stopped crying because she doesn’t have anything left in her to keep going. Exhaustion has dug a void and her whole being has fallen in her own emptiness. If tears aren’t rolling down her cheeks, it’s only because she hasn’t enough strength to shed one more tear. Tears have been shed tonight and every single one of them has taken away a part of Jacqueline. 

She’s staring in front of her but she doesn’t see. Her face doesn’t show anything. You know those faces without emotion. It isn’t out of coldness. Jack stares at the emptiness surrounding her because that’s what too much pain can do to people. Too much pain breaks. Too much pain takes away the last ounces of life. Too much pain erases all glints of joy. That’s what too much pain can do to people: a lifeless animated being. It becomes mechanical at some point, doing the same things over and over. It isn’t out of comfort. There is no strength left to do anything else. No matter how strong people are, when everything is used to bear the pain, there isn’t anything left. It isn’t coldness, it's lifeless. Take away the joy, the boredom, the unexpected, it isn’t life anymore. It’s mechanical. It’s coping. 

And Jack is coping. Jack is drowning into her pain. Jack is being buried under too much pain. And you know there is absolutely nothing you can do. She does not only seem off, you know she is. That’s what too much pain can do to people. 

Her hand squeezes yours but her eyes are still lost in a past that’s eating her alive. You don’t let go of her hand. At least you know if she drowns, you’ll bring her back. You don’t know how, you don’t know when, you don’t know how long it’ll take. But you won’t give up on her. 

You don’t know how long it has been since she started staring. Her jaw is clenched. Her eyes are still wet from her tears. You guess they are red and swollen. They are too dry to cry. Jack swallows the lump tightening her throat. She doesn’t feel angry or sad anymore. She doesn’t even feel what’s left of her endless pain. That’s the paradox of too much pain. Because it’s too much, it may not be felt any longer. It has spread everywhere, it hurts everywhere, but the pain itself can’t be felt. It hurts so much, so deeply, you become insensitive to your own pain. A pain that, yet, doesn’t let you have enough strength to feel life running in your veins. 

Jack closes her eyes and suddenly bites her lips. She’s frowning, her fingers digging into the blankets. Then she shakes her head and meets your eyes. 

“ _I wish I could feel something else_ ”, she doesn’t complete her sentence. Something else than what, that’s up to you to decide. Something else than guilt? Something else than pain? Something else than anger? Something else than despair? “ _But for the last ten years, I haven’t been able to…_ ”, again, she doesn’t finish her sentence. Because Jack doesn’t quite know how to qualify it. To move on? It doesn’t sound quite right. To forgive myself? She doesn’t think she deserves forgiveness. Not to be haunted by my past? Jack rests her forehead against yours, wrapping her arms around your body. “ _You make me feel something else_ ”, her eyes are closed, her lids as a barrier for eventual tears, “ _but it’s always tainted with…_ ” Jack takes a deep breath, holding you stronger. That’s when you realize she’s clinging to you, for safety, for comfort "... _you know_ ”. 

She doesn’t have to use words. Because it’s true. You do not exactly know what is tainting this something else she may sometimes be allowed to feel, but you understand. At least, partly. And it’s enough for her, for now. So it’s enough for you too, for now. Jack yawns. You wonder if she’ll get any sleep tonight. She rubs her eyes and takes one last deep breath. You know she’s closing the box. You know she’s back at pretending she’s fine. You know she’s turning the page, for tonight. What you don’t know is how it is possible for her to close the door that quickly. 

" _I want to feel something else before falling asleep_ ” Jack whispers, smiling at you. A smile; you haven’t seen one of those for too long. It would have usually felt good to see a smile on those lips, but tonight is different, in so many ways. Her smile is sincere and yet, it feels bitter for you. Because you know the smile only is a mascarade. You don’t want Jack to have to put her mask on around you. But you pretend you’re fine with it. Because that’s how she’s coping, and she’s coping the best she possibly can. 

Her thumb brushes your lips, her eyes not leaving yours. Her breath has slowed down as she shifted to face you, her body invading your personal space. Not that personal space really mattered tonight. Jack’s tongue slowly darts out to damp her lips: “ _and I have just here exactly what we need for that_ ”. 

Her left hand finds its way back to the back of your neck, softly caressing your skin. Her eyes are now staring at your lips, this added to her soft touches on your body, there isn’t anything you could to prevent shivers to run down your spine. Jacqueline leans in closer, her breath tickling your half opened lips. Your hand resting on her forearm absentmindedly lets your thumb stroking her skin. Her eyes meet yours, darker than usual, her pupils dilated. Your hand slips on her wrist very slowly, sending shivers down her spine. Your fingers wrap around it to caress the soft skin of her wrist. You feel her heartbeats against the tip of your thumb. You slowly bend your head to get closer to Jack. Her pulse is racing, imitating yours. Your heart is beating so fast you don’t only feel it in your chest. The beats are pulsing in your head, in your throat, in your stomach where they are dancing along with butterflies Jack has put there. 

With a gentle pressure on your neck, Jacqueline brings you closer to her, finally closing the distance between you. She briefly stops a second before pressing her lips against yours, her eyes looking for yours, to make sure you want it too. When she finds it in your eyes, she closes hers and savors the sensation of her wet lips meeting yours. 

It’s soft and chaste, almost shy. There is no burning desire shared through this kiss. This is not the alcohol talking. The kiss isn’t the result of loneliness and exhaustion. When her lips brush yours, timidly at first, you know it isn’t despair. It’s a confession. A loving gesture to share those unspoken words between you. It’s a promise of love, a promise of care. It’s a promise of never letting go. It’s soft and long. You don’t need words when emotions are shared through gestures of intimacy. 

Her lips are a bit salty against yours. You press yours against hers a bit more, when your mind is less dizzy to let you remember what has just happened. You can’t translate your deep confused emotions with words but the kiss is just that. Shared emotions, unspoken confidences, unspeakable secrets. It’s a promise of better tomorrows. It’s a testimony of trust. 

Lovers wouldn’t kiss the way you do. Friends shouldn’t kiss the way you do. That’s how you finally have an answer to your dreaded unspoken questions. You’re something in the middle of that. You’re somewhere in a confused situation between lovers and friends. This kiss is not about that. It isn’t about finding answers. It is about finding each other back after ten days of a worrying separation. 

When you notice the paper mistletoe pinned on the wall of your headboard, you fear for a second you read it all wrong. Maybe this kiss has just been about a teasing game between two friends. But Jacqueline breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against yours, her hand not leaving your neck, her other one not leaving your cheek. She clings to you with such blind trust you feel grateful to have let her in. She clings to you like she knows you will never do anything to hurt her. She clings to you like she can feel you will always try your best for her. 

The kiss wasn’t about mistletoe. It wasn’t about two friends teasing each other. It wasn’t a game. But it wasn’t a need caused by despair and sorrow. It wasn’t a means to shut down the pain. It was the expression of profound tenderness two people deeply feel but can’t find the proper words to show it. It was the empirical evidence of mutual care and reciprocal trust.

When you both open your eyes, it’s only to smile at the other. A bright sincere smile dancing on your lips, oversensitive due the ghost of a kiss. But no words are spoken, because, now, you know you don’t need them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedbacks are always very well appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the end of the first chapter, I'm hoping to post another one soon because I'm almost done writting it but I can't promise anything yet!  
> Feel free to let me know what you thought of this first chapter, it's always so nice to hear feedbacks!  
> Have a lovely day!


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